A Sickening Thought Indeed
Only a masquerader would know they say
The feeling of being dressed up that way
Beneath their maskings colorful and bright
Smiles beem bold and lightly white
Yet others do know the feeling well
But instead they hide a second hell
Thinking it better to hide than show
Their blue veins run a bloody flow
A sickening thought indeed the party screams
So illogical and deathly it all seems
Yet the confident do not know
How bad it feels to hide than show
A rotting to tear through the bones
While confidence sits drinking tea with lovely scones
Lonely sits fakely to please the party goers
The fisod will smile, but the heart it lowers
-fin
Shy Hands Do Conquer
A push, a feeling
Driving a quiet revealing
Shy hands do conquer
The hate of a warlike encounter
With a brush, with a breeze
The coldness will freeze
The opponent stands still
His heart in a seige of will
Stammering and clammering
For an answer to silent hammering
When this gentle hand soothes
The wounds, and cools
Every ounce of pain caused
By battles of anger, he is paused
To feel the hand of peace
Reach down and push deep
To a heart calloused by war
After all what is love for?